


The Odd One Out

by Jiji Jones (JijiJones)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Choking, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, TW blood play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 05:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JijiJones/pseuds/Jiji%20Jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is fed up with Scott always ditching him for Allison, and decides to seek out the attention of somebody else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Odd One Out

            “Mr. Stilinski,”

            Stiles twitched a little in his sleep as the chemistry teacher leaned in closer and spoke the student’s name again.

            “Mr. Stilinkski if you are not awake and out of this class room in the next three seconds I _will_ give you another detention,” There was a collective group of snickers from the other students in the classroom as Mr. Harris frowned at the gob of drool that hung from Stiles’ chin to a point where it nearly dirtied the desk.

            Harris smacked the surface beside Stiles, who had fallen asleep with his hand on his cheek about midway through the last period of the day. He startled awake, blinking around in confusion before settling his eyes on his worst teacher.

            “Detention starts now,” Harris stated blandly as he turned away from Stiles, striding back to his desk to stare intensely at Stiles as though he was daring him to protest.

            Stiles knew better than to object. He found himself grinding his teeth as he opened his textbook to read what he had slept through.

            An hour later, when Harris had finally slapped his own book shut with a clap that jolted Stiles from his dazed state, Stiles left the classroom with a breath of relief that was just quiet enough to prevent him from receiving another hour in that room with nothing to read but words that wouldn’t stick. He looked at his phone as he walked quickly through the hallway, not even stopping to retrieve anything from his locker. He had homework to do, but at this point he was just itching to leave the building as fast as possible.

            He had been expecting a text from Scott, but there was none. There were no messages at all on his phone, as usual. His dad had been working overtime at the Sherriff’s Department and Scott was always so preoccupied with Allison. Even if he had texted Stiles, it would have only been about Allison. It was always about Allison.

            Stiles climbed into his jeep, wincing at the creaking noise the entire vehicle made when anyone moved inside it. He was the odd one out of his friends, his dad didn’t have time for him, his teachers hated him, and this stupid hunk of metal was ready to kick the bucket at any given moment. Before attempting to start it, Stiles just rested his head against the back of the seat and stared up at the ceiling. Usually he didn’t let himself feel so miserable on his own behalf, but it had been such a long and irritating day that he just needed a moment to feel sorry for himself.

            To top it off, it happened to be the day he dreaded once a year. When it passed there was no relief, just three hundred and sixty-five more days until the anniversary of his mother’s death happened upon him once again.

            He lifted his head and focused his mind on turning his key to start up the jeep. The jangle of his keychain made him feel more frustrated, but he quickly backed out of the parking spot and started on his way home.

            Stiles arrived to find that the house was entirely empty. It was no surprise that his dad had had to work late, even though the sheriff had promised this one night to be home on time. No matter, Stiles trudged up to his room and fell right into bed. He hadn’t wanted to go to the cemetery in any case; he found his own time to mourn, and not in a depressing place that forced you to be sad. He knew that his mother would much rather that he mourned her when he wanted to, not because he felt obligated to.

            His phone buzzed with the promising tune of a text message. Stiles left his arm draped over his eyes for a moment before fumbling for the phone with the other hand. He picked it up, hoping for Scott to have remembered him. Remembered the day. Remembered that there were two days a year, every year, that they bonded over more than sports and adolescent crushes and, more recently, werewolves, to attempt to take each other’s minds off of deaths that stung them both every day. 

            “Is there practice tomorrow morning,” Stiles read out loud. Astounding, though if Scott couldn’t remember today of all days, Stiles supposed that his friend’s memory of their lacrosse practices would be less than credible. 

            Stiles swore and threw his phone across the room; his anger ebbing only a little with the relief that the device had only hit his laundry hamper and not the wall. He hid his head under a pillow, clenching his teeth to hold back frustrated tears. He hated feeling like the odd one out. He hated that right now Scott was probably trying to judge whether or not he could manage to stay at Allison’s overnight and still have energy to come to practice in the morning. He hated that no one was there for him, and that his problems were so strictly _humane_ that they fell off the radar compared to those of his friends. 

            A thought came to mind, one that he didn’t want to entertain for even a second, but one that presented itself anyway. Stiles peeked out from his pillow at the phone across the room. The message from Scott was still on the screen, blinking angrily in regards to being unanswered. 

            Stiles rolled off the bed and walked over to pick up the phone. _Fuck you,_ he thought as he clicked off of Scott’s conversation window (one of which consisted mostly of outgoing, ignored messages) and clicked to start a new conversation. 

Stiles hesitated before clicking the name he had in mind, but nevertheless there was a Chevrolet Camaro in his driveway within twenty minutes of sending that text; as well as a note on the kitchen table explaining his absence, a jacket on his shoulders, shoes on his feet, and a key in the lock on the door behind him. 

He climbed into the passenger seat as fast as his clumsy hands would allow. Derek watched him as he did it, seeming slightly surprised that Stiles had texted him for anything more than what could be dealt with through the car window. 

“So what is it, what do you need?” Derek raised an eyebrow, one hand casually on the steering wheel, the other on his thigh.

Stiles stared out the windshield, “Just drive.”

Derek was surprised despite himself. He had never heard Stiles sound so solemn or, in any case, say something without a hint of sarcasm pointed in the Alpha’s direction. Without saying a word, Derek pulled out of the driveway and sped off.

The ride was quiet. Derek was left unsure of what was and wasn’t appropriate to say or ask, and Stiles was offering no help on the matter. He was still rod-straight in his seat, staring directly in front of him. 

Finally Derek, without taking his eyes off the road, asked: “Stiles, where do you want to go?”      

“Take me to your place.”

With a destination in mind, Derek pressed harder on the gas. Stiles kept his expression stoic as he felt the increase in speed. His heart was beating fast, and his mind was screaming at him to stop this before it was too late, but still he kept his gaze steady on the dashboard. There was no turning back.

Neither spoke until they were in Derek’s house. Derek leaned against the doorframe as Stiles walked right to the centre of the room. He whipped around to stare down Derek with not an ounce of trust in his eyes.          

“So how does this work? What do I do?” Stiles asked with his arms crossed. Derek didn’t seem taken aback, only slightly confused. 

The Alpha let out a noise that was very similar to a snort, and approached Stiles with a grin. Stiles was starting to lose his expressionless attitude and starting to look more like he was ready to flee at any moment.

“You want to be a werewolf?” Derek whispered mockingly, suddenly right beside Stiles’ ear. Stiles didn’t move away, but shuddered throughout his body with a sudden, fearful chill. 

He shook his head slowly, “I don’t want to be a werewolf.” 

Derek stepped away, looking more confused than he had been since he had received that one text that had read: “Come to my house. Now.” Stiles let out a panicked, breathy laugh at the shocked expression on the Alpha’s face. 

Stiles stepped closer to the werewolf, reaching up to run a hand awkwardly through his hair, “I want you. I want to fuck you and I want it now.”

Derek shook his head with a laugh, not really believing what he had just heard. Did he have some new reputation as someone looking for casual sex? What was Stiles thinking, pulling this shit?

“If you and Scott think this is some sort of joke, get the fuck out,” Derek pointed toward the door, “And you can walk. I’m not driving you.”

Stiles stared at Derek for a moment, “Are you kidding me? How else am I supposed to word that to sound like I’m serious? Please Derek, I want your shuddering member inside me? Take me, dear wolfey, take all of me? I want to take a ride on your fucking disco stick?”

Derek threw out his arms, “Stiles, what the fuck are you even saying?”

“A disco stick means-“

            “I know what a fucking disco stick is.”           

            Stiles shrugged, lifting a hand to his mouth to chew on his thumb nail. He bounced a little on his feet, looking away from Derek. “It’s been a rough day. I just need some sort of release, okay? Say no if you want to, but this is me offering up my young and supple body.”

            Derek scowled. “What makes me think I want your ‘young and supple’ body?”

            “Well, you came when I called didn’t you?” Stiles shrugged again, dropping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Derek grumbled to himself and turned to walk away.

            Stiles walked backward and leaned against a wall, “You came when I called, just like a little puppy. Maybe I should get you a cute collar to celebrate your continuous obedience.”

            Before he could take another breath, there was a thick hand on Stiles’ throat. He struggled to gasp, his eyes watering. “I drove all the way to your house, brought you here because you were obviously upset, and you taunt me for it,” Derek growled in Stiles’ ear, “And worst of all? When you asked, you actually suggested you’d be the one fucking me.”        

            “I should have guessed,” Stiles croaked, “That you would be one for a dom and sub type of thing.” Shivers flew down his arms to his fingers and all the way down his body to his toes. He could feel his cock grow hard in his pants.

            Derek’s claws brushed the back of Stiles’ neck and made the boy squirm, trying to move away from them. Derek loosened his strangling grip to hear Stiles yelp as one claw dug into his flesh.

            “Move away again, and you’ll get another one.”

            Stiles whimpered. His eyes welled up with the effort of trying not to struggle. Derek swept his gaze up and down Stiles’ body with a grin. Maybe he had found himself imagining what it would be like to have this one underneath him, but never had Derek imagined that Stiles would be a willing participant.

            Derek licked his lips and pressed them against Stiles’ jaw, feeling the boy flinch at the contact. He thrust in another claw, smiling at the pained cry that escaped Stiles’ mouth before he pressed his own against it in a harsh and forceful kiss. 

            Stiles could barely think as Derek’s lips hit his. His neck was throbbing where two wounds bled openly, and he knew that at any moment Derek would puncture him again. He felt Derek’s tongue press against his lips, willing them to open, but Stiles kept them shut a moment too long. The Alpha’s knee came up, forcing itself between Stiles’ legs to press against the boy’s erection. Stiles gasped in shock, granting Derek passage to thrust his tongue inside Stiles’ mouth. 

            Stiles felt his heart racing and could barely contain the noises escaping him as Derek continued to work rub his thigh against Stiles’ crotch in a manner so rough that the boy just barely found it arousing rather than painful. The Alpha’s hand had eased up on its death grip around his throat, and Stiles found that he was able to take raspy breaths, but it was still there and still limiting the amount of air he could suck in between the deep and pressing kisses that Derek was pressing harshly against Stiles’ mouth. His head was swimming with the loss of breath and the rush of arousal that he had not been expecting to come with such a violent situation.

            As abruptly as the kissing had started, it ended. Derek yanked away, and in the same swift movement grabbed a fistful of Stiles’ hair to force him to his knees. 

            Stiles found himself fumbling with the belt and fly that was between him and Derek’s cock. Derek’s grip on his hair eased momentarily as Stiles lifted the fully erect dick from the constraining boxers and tentatively wrapped his lips around it. He looked up through his eyelashes to see Derek’s head tilted toward the ceiling, sucking in his breath. Stiles ran his tongue up the underside of the Alpha’s shaft without taking his eyes off of the delicious sight of Derek finally losing control.

            As though he could read that thought, Derek twisted Stiles’ hair in his fist again and pushed his dick roughly into the boy’s mouth; so deep that Stiles felt himself gagging in his already raw throat and began to pull away. He immediately found himself pulled back in another thrust from Derek’s death grip on his head. Clearing his mind, Stiles attempted to find a bobbing rhythm that allowed Derek’s cock to reach the back of his throat with not nearly as much choking as before. 

            Derek released a carnal growl as Stiles dragged his front teeth lightly along the wolf’s cock. Stiles found himself nearly grinning as he took it all in his mouth again, feeling giddy with the fact that he was able to probe such a ravenous sound from a seemingly uncaring partner. 

            Stiles had little to no clue about whether or not Derek was going to ejaculate from oral, or what he was supposed to do if he did. Did he spit or swallow? Derek’s sudden pull on his hair, causing Stiles to snap his head up and spit the cock out of his mouth, left no room for an answer. The Alpha pulled Stiles back to his feet.

            Leaning back against the wall, Stiles fully assumed that this was the time that Derek would go down on him now. Derek began to unbutton Stiles’ jeans but instead of crouching down, the wolf whipped the teen around so that his chest was pressed against the wall. Stiles gasped at the sudden movement; smacking his hands against the cold concrete.

            Derek threaded his fingers between Stiles’ and grinned near his ear as he breathed out: “There’s no turning back at this point, Stiles.” Stiles swallowed, running his tongue over his teeth. He knew there was no turning back; but at this point, that was less of a concern than his desperation to feel some sort of intimate touch was.

            A nip on his earlobe made Stiles moan out loud. Derek pressed his whole body against Stiles’; his dick still fully erect and pushing against the teen’s ass. Stiles felt wary of just how badly he wanted it inside him, the thought alone making him whimper softly.     

            Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ chest and pulled him to lean against him. Stiles groaned as Derek ran his hands up his shirt; brushing his nipples and dragging his nails up his sides. Stiles gasped as one of Derek’s nails caught and left a long, deep gash all the way from his hip to his ribs. Derek chuckled softly.

            “Do you want me?” Derek whispered as he slid his hand over Stiles’ crotch and playfully massaged his cock. Stiles swallowed again and nodded frantically. 

            The wolf groped him harder. “I want to hear you call me your Alpha.”

            Stiles squirmed in Derek’s arms as he breathed back: “I want you, Alpha.” Derek rewarded him with a firm squeeze before slipping his hand under the teen’s jeans and boxers. Stiles froze for a moment at the feeling of the Alpha’s hand on his bare skin, and felt almost as though he would orgasm then and there.

            “What does that make you then, Stiles?”

            Stiles thought for a moment; a terrible task to attempt as Derek began to pump his hand slowly and firmly up and down Stiles’ dick. “A- a human?” He shivered as he felt himself already coming close to ejaculating.

            “Nah. Let’s make you an honorary Omega for tonight.”

            An honorary Omega. The lowest in the pack, but part all the same. Stiles tried to contemplate this idea, falling in out of interest with it until Derek finally released him and crossed the room to grab something. Stiles couldn’t see the label, but he could assume what the bottle was of.

            Derek pulled down Stiles’ pants and boxers and began to rub lubricant all over the newly dubbed Omega’s behind. Stiles whimpered, leaning his cheek against the cold wall. Derek smiled to himself as he lubed up his cock as well. 

            Stiles felt his whole body go rigid as Derek slid his middle finger inside Stiles’ anus; gently probing his prostate before pushing in a second one. He tried to relax; he had read about this and how it would only hurt more if he didn’t relax. Stile began to panic. It felt so good, but there was something very foreign and wrong about the feeling as well.

            Another finger. Scissoring fingers. Stiles was moaning loudly now as his whole body shook with the gentle thrusts. Just as he thought he could take no more, Derek removed all of his fingers and rubbed the slippery tip of his cock around Stiles’ opening.

            Stiles sucked in his breath as Derek slid the full length of his cock slowly inside his anus. They both stood still for a moment; breathing each other in and relishing the new feeling of this penetration before Derek pulled back and pushed harder into Stiles. Stiles felt himself crying out; more in pleasure than in pain. He was surprised at the lack of pain. 

            Derek was expertly thrusting in and out; just deep enough as to hit Stiles’ prostate in the perfect rhythm. Stiles moved with Derek, moaning and gasping, feeling Derek occasionally yank on his hair again or clasp his hand around Stiles’ throat for only a moment’s worth of breath to be lost.

            Stiles was panting by the time that they were both close to orgasm. Derek was fairly quiet, with only a few gasps and grunts to mark the thrusts that were hitting Stiles faster and faster until Derek began to shudder.

            The werewolf moaned finally as he slammed one more time into Stiles. He grabbed the Omega’s dick and squeezed it roughly as he ejaculated. Stiles felt the hot liquid inside him, and at the Alpha’s touch felt a cry tear from his raw throat and his vision darken. He could have sworn fireworks went off behind his eyes as he came into the Alpha’s hand.

            They leaned against one another, gasping slightly and unwilling to admit how wonderful it felt to essentially be cuddling after committing an act that was meant to be purely deemed as animalistic need and stress relief.

            “So, honorary Omega,” Stiles began breathily, still not fully recovered from his first sexual experience, “Is that only for when you’re fucking me, or will it still stand tomorrow when we pretend this didn’t happen?”

            Derek didn’t look at him. “How about we decide that if and when this happens again?”

            Stiles shrugged. He liked the title, the way it made him feel like he wasn’t just a useless human. Like he wasn’t just the odd one out. 


End file.
